• Microsoft recently offered voluntary exit packages to some employees. It's the company's second buyout offer this year.
• Some Google workers have said they want buyouts offered before layoffs, and to more employees.
• Buyouts might soften job cuts, though broad offers could also send top talent out the door.

Voluntary buyouts are gaining momentum in Big Tech.

On Monday, Microsoft offered the exit packages to some of its employees for the second time this year, its latest attempt to slim its workforce without layoffs. In April, the company launched its first broad voluntary retirement program, offering packages to thousands of longtime US employees.

Separately, workers at Google pressed the search giant this past summer to make voluntary buyouts a standard first step whenever it plans job cuts — and to extend them to all members of affected teams, regardless of tenure.

Outside tech, Skydance, the company formed by the merger of Paramount and Warner Bros. Discovery, told employees Monday that it would require five days a week in the office. Employees unwilling to comply might be eligible for a buyout.

The developments are raising broader questions in tech, where many once-scrappy startups are now sprawling corporations — and where repeated rounds of layoffs have eliminated scores of jobs in recent years.

Now that many tech companies have workforces that include employees with decades of service, are buyouts — long part of the workforce-reduction playbook at legacy companies from Boeing to General Motors — a fairer, less painful way to reduce head count than layoffs? And should they remain reserved for veteran employees, as they traditionally have been, or be offered more widely?

"Buyouts are becoming increasingly compelling for older Silicon Valley companies," said Laszlo Bock, a former Google head of human resources who now advises CEOs. "They have more eligible people, and it's a softer message for morale."

A 'more humane' approach

Nearly 100 Google employees rallied in July outside the company's Mountain View headquarters, arguing that the company's past use of selective exit offers should be made a broader, more consistent policy. As part of the event, the union presented a petition signed by more than 4,500 Googlers calling for improved layoff protections.

Voluntary buyouts "provide agency to workers," Emma Jackson, a Google employee of more than 20 years and a leader of the Alphabet Workers Union, previously told Business Insider. Alphabet is Google's parent company.

Jackson said workers nearing retirement might have accepted buyouts in earlier rounds of layoffs at Google, reducing the number of cuts needed. She called the approach "more humane."

Google didn't respond to a request for comment from Business Insider. Alphabet said in July that its workforce had grown by nearly 12,000 employees over the prior year, reaching about 199,000 at the end of June.

With Microsoft's latest voluntary buyouts, the company said around 60,000 employees — or more than a quarter of its workforce — will be eligible and that the terms will be similar to its standard severance. They will have until early December to decide whether to take the offer and exit at the end of the year, and there are no plans for another buyout at this time, a spokesperson said.

Microsoft made its voluntary retirement program available to employees whose age and years of service added up to at least 70, meaning some could qualify well before a conventional retirement age.

At 47, retirement wasn't on Marisela Cerda's radar. Yet Cerda, a principal customer experience manager at Microsoft who joined the company after college in 2001, was among those who received an exit offer this past spring.

Although she ultimately decided to stay, Cerda previously told Business Insider that she stuck around as long as she has because of the opportunity to keep learning about emerging technologies and the relationships she has built with colleagues. The offer prompted Cerda to think more urgently about the next phase of her career.

"You move toward what you want more of, versus moving away from things you don't want," she previously said.

Why the calculus may be changing

As Silicon Valley companies grow older alongside their workforces, buyouts may grow more attractive, said Josh Bersin, an HR analyst and consultant. Forcing veteran employees to leave through layoffs "creates a lot of bad blood," he said.

Peter Rahbar, a New York employment attorney and cohost of the "Across the Bar" podcast, said buyouts might not reduce staff as quickly as layoffs, but they don't carry the same "huge" morale costs for those who remain — or for potential future hires.

"How you treat people on the way out is certainly something people look at on the way in," he said.

There are downsides for employers, however. Offering buyouts can make labor reductions less predictable, said Jay Zagorsky, a professor at Boston University's Questrom School of Business. If too few employees accept, a company may still need to make cuts to reach its target.

"With a layoff, there's certainty," he said.

Extending buyout offers to everyone, including those who've logged only a few work anniversaries, also carries drawbacks.

"People whom you would prefer to stay might leave," and they could go to a competitor, said Bock, the former Google executive.

The risk is especially concerning for companies with what he calls "spiky talent," where a small number of employees create disproportionate value.

For workers who receive a buyout offer, Rahbar, the employment attorney, said they should understand how accepting it would affect their retirement benefits, stock awards, deferred compensation, and healthcare coverage. Depending on a company's plans, employees who retire may continue vesting in certain benefits or retain those they have already earned, he said.

Buyout packages also tend to be more generous than the severance offers, Rahbar added, and there's an emotional difference between choosing to leave and being told to go.

"People are feeling good about leaving on their own terms," he said. "With a layoff, they're clearly not."

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An earlier version of this story appeared on July 27, 2026.

• Maria Sentmanat, 55, quit her six-figure job this summer without another job to go to.
• She started Why Not Wild, giving guided tours of the South Florida wilderness.
• She's not making any money and living off her savings, but says the move has saved her mental health.

This as-told-to-essay is based on a conversation with Maria Sentmanat, 55, who is based in Miami, Florida. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I'm a high school dropout who came from a single-parent family. My upbringing was filled with chaos and instability. I never thought I'd end up being the type to earn a six-figure salary, but that's exactly what I ended up doing — and walking away from this year.

On paper, I was definitely successful. I had a $153,000 paycheck managing one of the largest 5K races in the country, a job I'd held for the past five years. I could have made up to $180,000 next year if I had stayed on.

The job was a new opportunity when I really needed one

You could argue it was the culmination of the fitness career I had spent 16 years building, after becoming super overweight following the birth of my daughters. I became a personal trainer and ran my own wellness-focused fitness studio. I'd created something special.

But then the pandemic happened, and I lost everything. I couldn't run my studio anymore, and struggled to build it back up again once the restrictions were lifted.

The founder of this race event was a friend, so when she told me she needed a new race director, it felt like an opportunity life was giving me. I completed all the required certifications and threw myself into this new role, which was both incredibly stressful and rewarding.

But things started to change. I started to dread going to work, and my stomach was always upset. I felt myself going into "fight or flight" mode, with the trauma from my childhood resurfacing, that I just didn't need.

I felt heavy, and my daughters — who are now 25 and 27 — could see it. I would go out into nature to decompress, but I was always thinking, "What am I going to do with this massive thing hanging on the side of my neck?" I got to a state where I just felt numb, even though I was continually asking myself, "What are you going to do? How are you going to keep doing this?"

I quit with no other job lined up

I resigned in August 2026, with no other job to go to, which some people called crazy.

But I had a strong feeling that I needed to find purpose and passion again. I knew that would be through nature. That's where I heal. That's where I can find a place that I feel seen, heard, understood, and held.

So I knew I had to build something that centered on connecting people with nature, so "Why Not Wild" was born. I take people into the wilderness around South Florida, but it's not packages. It's completely personalized. I want to talk to you and find out what you need.

I'll take you hiking through the Everglades, but it's not like, "oh, look at this nice trail". You will have to walk through water, and for some people, that is a big thing to overcome. For people who don't want to hike, I do motorcycle adventures.

I want people to reconnect with an entity we have caused so much destruction to. I want to be the bridge. I'm using my social media platforms to create awareness of what's beautiful out there.

I'm finding purpose again

Financially, I'm OK. I've been super strict about my savings, even while paying $4,700, helping my daughters, and paying my SBA loan from my previous business. I owned a home in Mount Dora that I sold last year too. I could live comfortably for six months, even a year, but then I'd have no savings left.

My ex-husband and I divorced when the girls were young, but we still co-parent very closely. He has a key to my place, comes over to eat several times a week, and we even go on vacation together. Our kids haven't had that typical divorce experience, which we worked hard to be intentional about. He and the girls are happy that I have done this — they have complete faith in me.

I'm not making any money right now, but I wake up excited about every day. What door is going to open? What's going to happen? Even if this doesn't work out, I was brave enough not to get caught up in what was, in effect, a bad marriage. I'll know that I was brave enough to try.

I have lost all that income and future security, but I have gained so much more. I feel better mentally, physically, and spiritually.

• Michael Bowen started his career in church work, which he found unfulfilling and lacking stability.
• Driven by a love for Disney and a desire for change, he decided to make the move to Florida at 44.
• After a hiatus due to personal reasons, he returned to his job as a Disney bus driver this year.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Michael Bowen, a 51-year-old Walt Disney World bus driver and Disney content creator behind the YouTube channel "Incognito Mouse." It has been edited for length and clarity.

Most of my adult life, I worked in the church. I went to university and Bible school to become a minister. I went into this line of work thinking it would make someone else happy, and didn't really think about what would make me happy.

At one point, I ended up working at a smaller church that could not pay a full-time salary, so to support myself, I got a part-time job as a school bus driver.

In 2017, I took a vacation to Florida and visited Disney World. I remember sitting there on the last day of my vacation, in the beautiful, warm sun, by the pool, with palm trees beside me, and dreading going back to the stormy weather in New Jersey.

I felt I had to make some kind of change, or I was going to sentence myself to a miserable life.

I realized I could work as a bus driver for Disney

I first visited Disney World in 2013. I had thought it was strange — a bunch of adults, no kids, going to Disney. Yet, even on that first trip, I thought, man, what could I do to work here? There's no Disney church.

By the second time I went in 2017, I had followed Disney a lot more and saw it wasn't just for children. Now, as a school bus driver, I thought, "Oh, they do have bus drivers, and that is a legitimate career. I could actually do that."

I love Disney, and my ex-wife did, too. As huge Disney fans, we thought, why not go live in the most magical place on Earth and work there?

In 2020, at 44, I first moved to Florida

I was living out of state when I applied to be a bus driver at Disney. It's very difficult to get into it. It took several months to get to the interview, and I needed a Florida driver's license before I could get the offer.

I moved to Florida in January of 2020. After I got my license, I was put on a waiting list until a bus driver position became available. It wasn't until February 15 that I finally got the call to start the role.

For the first time in my life, I had a really stable job with all the benefits that some smaller churches aren't necessarily able to give: paid time off, pensions, retirement, things like that.

In particular, I had health insurance for the first time in a long time, and I was really happy.

I was convinced I was going to drive for Disney for the rest of my life and retire there. But in May 2022, I chose to leave after experiencing a difficult separation and divorce. I remember when I was leaving, I got the offboarding email, and it was the most gut-wrenching feeling that I had ever had.

I moved to Oregon, but I always wanted to move back

I decided to move to Oregon. I drove a city bus and things like that, but I wasn't happy.

During that time, I met another woman, now my wife, who was a big Disney fan like me. I rebranded my YouTube channel from church content to Disney around 2019, and started posting about being a Disney cast member in 2020. We met through the YouTube channel and decided to move to Florida together in 2025.

As before, I had to wait almost a year for a job opening at Disney. In the meantime, I worked for a different company contracted to drive the buses for Universal Studios.

Finally, in April 2026, at 50, I returned to Disney as a bus driver.

It's not seen as the most prestigious job, but I love it

For me, being a Disney bus driver is wonderful, but I feel like it's not the most prestigious job. Often, when people ride the bus, it's seen as just a way to get to the park.

However, it has its special moments. Once, there was a little boy visiting with his parents who, as he was getting on the bus, showed me two little toy buses. His mother told me he loved the buses so much and was so excited to show them to me. Little things like this just make my day, seeing people so excited.

I can enjoy all the magic of Disney and go to the park whenever I want. So it's the best of both worlds.

Walt Disney said, "It's kind of fun to do the impossible." If you'd have told me that I was going to do something like this several years ago, I would have said, " There's no way — it's not possible. I'm too old. I don't have the finances. I don't know what I would do."

But life is too short. If you are not happy or you want to do something else, you have to make it happen.

• I'm 30 years old, but I look young and am often mistaken for being half my age.
• This has made it difficult for me to feel like I'm being taken seriously in professional settings.
• Oftentimes, when I apply for jobs or go to the office, I try to make myself look older.

"Have you just started studying?" a tall, smiling man in a suit asked me.

Although I was in a university building, I wasn't there as a student. I was struggling to find a conference room for a work-related meeting — one that, I soon realized, he was also attending. Of course he was.

"Oh, you just look so much younger," he said after he realized we were colleagues. Maybe it was a compliment, but it didn't feel like one to me.

I have countless examples of people perceiving me as half my age, from movie-theater cashiers trying to sell me children's tickets to police officers on the street asking me where my parents are.

There have been several times when I arrived at a youth support group for my job, but the receptionist assumed I was one of the teen clients. It doesn't exactly inspire confidence.

I'm 30, but between my youthful features and my 5-foot-1 height, I am often told I look like a teenager. Many people consider looking young a dream, and it's even a goal for skincare aficionados.

In reality, though, I believe it's made parts of my life — especially my professional life — considerably more difficult.

I've found it's tough to be taken seriously when you look half your age

I have several years of experience providing peer support for individuals with autism and ADHD; helping develop mental-health programs; and leading projects addressing issues faced by refugees, the LGBTQ+ community, and people with disabilities in several countries.

And yet, because of how I look, I still struggle with confidence and worry about being taken seriously at work.

Often, before I've even had the chance to properly introduce myself when interviewing for a job or meeting new people, I'm concerned my appearance has already shaped how I'm perceived.

Looking like a teen feels like an even bigger obstacle when I'm applying for higher-level and leadership roles, especially because most of the work I do involves peer support or management.

A manager is expected to be wise and knowledgeable — qualities not usually associated with youth. And in my field, a peer supporter is someone who has enough lived experience and training to help others navigate situations they have experienced firsthand.

But would a 70-year-old really take advice from someone who looks like their grandson? I don't know, but I do know that appearance and age aren't the same thing as experience.

I try to look older to be taken more seriously, but I wish I didn't have to

Over time, I've developed little tricks to try to avoid unwanted questions (or surprised reactions) about my age at interviews and at work.

Sometimes I wear platform shoes to appear taller or deliberately choose clothes that make me seem more mature — for example, wearing a plainer dark shirt rather than a colorful one, even though both would be equally appropriate for a meeting.

I also find myself consciously steering conversations with work colleagues toward things people associate with adulthood. I'm more likely to mention politics or current affairs than "The Hunger Games" or "Doctor Who," even on days when I would much prefer to chat about sci-fi than the news.

Sometimes I offer to show my ID as soon as I arrive for a job interview, hoping that "proving" my age will immediately change how potential employers perceive me.

In a perfect world, though, people would be judged in the workplace for their actual skills rather than their appearance and age, real or perceived. Age doesn't automatically come with wisdom, and youthfulness isn't equal to inexperience.

I've known teenage peer-support volunteers who were fantastic at their work, and I've also encountered professionals decades older than me who were far from the best in their field.

For now, though, I'm willing to play the game when I need to. I'll wear platform shoes, put away the "childish" T-shirts, and show my ID — whatever it takes to be taken seriously as a professional adult.

• Talon Krebs earns six figures as a TikTok Shop affiliate, posting up to 30 videos a day.
• He says anyone can get started with just a couple hundred bucks.
• Effective TikTok videos need a strong hook to give people a reason to stop scrolling.

Talon Krebs works full time as a TikTok Shop affiliate, promoting products on the app and earning a commission when shoppers buy through his links.

The gig earned the 23-year-old six figures last year, according to a 1099 form reviewed by Business Insider.

"As far as startup cost, TikTok Shop has to be one of the most profitable business models I've ever seen," he told BI.

Krebs said beginners can get started with a phone, a few products, and an understanding of what makes people stop scrolling. He shares three steps to turn TikTok videos into a source of income.

1. Build an account and meet TikTok Shop's eligibility requirements

Anyone can open a TikTok account, but affiliates need an established following to join TikTok Shop.

TikTok offers multiple routes into its affiliate program, Krebs explained. Its pilot program requires 1,000 followers but limits participants to a handful of posts a week, while the main program, which gives affiliates more flexibility, requires at least 5,000 followers.

Krebs already had about 24,000 followers on a personal account when he got started. He said he built the audience by posting about sports, current events, and other subjects he liked: "I was just posting stuff I was interested in."

2. Start with products you already own or would buy anyway

Krebs said he spent $100 to $200 on a handful of products when he first started. He chose items he needed anyway, like hoodies.

Affiliates can search TikTok's product marketplace for brands and products to promote. Krebs said they don't need a direct relationship with a brand to start making videos, though successful affiliates may eventually negotiate higher commissions or paid content deals.

For someone trying to keep costs close to zero, Krebs recommends looking around the house first. If an item you already own is listed on TikTok Shop, you can create a video about it rather than buying something new specifically to promote.

He also joined Media Labs, a community for affiliates that offered video feedback and weekly calls. He paid the $1,500 fee in six $250 monthly installments, putting his initial outlay — including products and his first community payment — at about $450.

Skip the community, use products you already own, and film with a phone and free editing tools, and Krebs said you could get started for essentially nothing.

3. Make videos that give people a reason to stop scrolling

A TikTok Shop video still has to work as a TikTok video. Krebs said the opening seconds matter most: The hook should get a viewer's attention, identify a pain point, or create enough curiosity to keep them watching.

In one of his most successful videos about a digital business card, he opens with: "Paper business cards are officially a thing of the past." The statement created some controversy, he said, but it got viewers' attention before he explained the product and how he used it as an entrepreneur.

Krebs tries to keep most videos between 30 and 50 seconds, though he said the right length depends on the product. Some products need more explanation, while others can be shown in a 10-second video.

He thinks of each video as a loop: The hook opens it, the middle explains or demonstrates the product, and the call to action closes it. Affiliates can tag a product directly in the video, allowing viewers to tap the orange shopping-cart icon, view the listing, and ultimately make a purchase.

• Edward Tian co-founded GPTZero in college, building it into a success before selling to Superhuman.
• He said he thinks that creating 'artificial scarcity' for the product contributed to its success.
• He said he'd major in the humanities, not computer science, if he went to college today.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Edward Tian, the 26-year-old cofounder of GPTZero, who's based in New York. His words have been edited for length and clarity.

I was never planning to go down the founder path straight out of college. I had a visual investigations fellowship lined up for after graduation and was ready to start a journalism career.

My cofounder Alex and I went to high school together. When ChatGPT came out, he was pursuing his Ph.D. in computer science at the University of Toronto, and I was in my senior year at Princeton. Over winter break, we built an AI detection tool and put it online. The success was almost overnight.

Three years later, we sold our company, GPTZero, to Superhuman, and have stayed on board to work with the team. Superhuman is a very pro-AI company, and I think it was an unexpected move for us as an AI detection company to join them.

We didn't build GPTZero to say there should be no AI on the internet. I think that's the biggest misunderstanding about why we started our company, but my feelings on AI have changed.

I had a different job lined up for after graduation

I studied computer science at Princeton and worked with a professor at the Princeton Natural Language Processing Lab on AI research. I also worked on a few other startup projects in school, but I was always hoping to work in journalism.

While in college, I became very involved in the open-source investigation community. I ended up working on open-source investigative projects with the BBC and Bellingcat, and had a visual investigations fellowship at The New York Times lined up after graduation, which I was excited about but ultimately didn't take.

After ChatGPT came out, I was inspired to investigate where and when AI was being used online. It took about a week over winter break to build the first version of our AI detection tool, and it was released in January 2023.

We created artificial scarcity to help grow the business

My cofounder Alex and I posted on social media to market the tool so people could try it, but we didn't view it as a business right away. However, it blew up online pretty quickly. After seeing the success, we wanted to double down on the opportunity and turn it into a legitimate site.

One piece of advice I have for founders is that using a waitlist is really helpful for generating hype and excitement. We put the first version of GPTZero on a waitlist because it had reached capacity. So I think that artificial scarcity was also very helpful in the success.

We had a lucky combination of very talented engineers and some traction and buzz, so we started reaching out to VCs. Many of our early VC partners went to my alma mater, and kind of all knew each other. Jack Altman is also an investor, and I remember we had a call where I was in my dorm room, and he was like, "Oh, I recognize that dorm room too."

For founders raising funding for the first time, my advice is not to optimize for the flashiest name or the biggest brand because you think it will attract future talent. Go for where there's familiarity and trust; trust is the most important thing when working with an investor.

We raised around $3.5 million in our first funding round. I stayed at Princeton to finish my senior year and graduate, and we kept growing the business. My cofounder Alex left his Ph.D. program to focus on the business.

It was bittersweet to sell the company

When Shishir, the new CEO of Superhuman, joined in 2025, we spoke with him about his broader platform vision for a suite of products. He thought we could be part of the authenticity suite he wanted to create.

It was bittersweet to think about giving up something that we started from scratch and put so much energy and care into. At the same time, it was a lot easier because the team stayed on. I'm now a director of product at Superhuman.

For company acquisitions, a lot of folks think the three most important things for a great fit are product match, people fit, and economic sense. We had similar people philosophies, and the deal made sense financially. Then, product-wise, we realized we're definitely not against AI use anywhere in education. We just want to make sure there's some authenticity and truth with that usage.

Over the next few years, we're going to take our shot at building a startup within a larger company. I've seen a lot of startup founders go to larger companies and start their moonshots from within.

The bigger mission we have is to take steps to ensure people are being respectful of the person who's on the receiving end of AI generations and productivity now. We want it to be that we're reaping the benefits of AI without making other people deal with more work.

I wouldn't major in computer science anymore

When we first started GPTZero, I think I was actually more pro-AI than I am now. I believe people should know when something is AI-generated, but I wasn't saying not to outsource anything at all.

In the past year, though, I've started to see an over-reliance on AI among people who finished university after ChatGPT was launched, especially with writing. If I went back to college right now, I wouldn't major in computer science. I'd probably major in journalism and get a minor in computer science. I'd get a humanities degree because those are the important skills now.

I've started to see a friction point at work when people can't write or edit, and everything they send reads like AI. Part of what I'm doing now at Superhuman is working on responsible AI usage policies and guidance.

People are allowed to use these tools however they see fit. At the same time, I feel a profound sadness for the internet at large. It's important to make sure we still have human-written content online.

Do you have a story to share about working on a tiny team? If so, please reach out to the reporter at aapplegate@businessinsider.com.